


Cockblocking, Zombie Style

by entanglednow



Category: Resident Evil - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow





	Cockblocking, Zombie Style

Dean reaches over while Leon's sighting down the barrel and draws the long swathe of hair out of his eye, dragging it back, and tangling it with the rest of his hair, with a sharp tug.

"Don't know how you can see a fucking thing with that hanging there. You should shave it all off. You're too busy looking like a flirtatious girl, you're gonna get yourself killed."

" _Winchester_ ," Leon says sharply.

" _Kennedy_ ," Dean shoots back, low and amused - no, not amused, aroused.

Dean pulls on the hair he's still holding, fingers dropping to twist in Leon's thigh holster, making it a catch of tightness that does nothing for Leon's aim.

"What's the matter, don't work well when you're distracted? Famous zombie hunter like you?"

Dean's a fucking tease of the highest order, and Leon should know better. Should at least have worked out some sort of resistance - something that isn't punching him in the face. Which would probably be satisfying. But not as satisfying as he knows Dean's capable of being.

Dean presses up tight against Leon's back, breath flaring over the back of his neck, and distracted is exactly what he is.

"I've heard you're good, Leon. Good enough that you could probably make a headshot while I was fucking you."

Leon accidentally squeezes the trigger and takes out a patch of dirt and half a bush.

Dean's laughing into his ear, rough and dirty.

"How has your brother not shot you already?" Leon asks.

Laughing turns into biting and Leon flicks the safety on his gun before he shoots himself, reaches over his own shoulder and catches what he can of Dean's short hair.

"You're fucking impossible," he grates out.

Dean ignores him in favour of undoing his belt and getting his fingertips down past the waistband, nails dragging through hair in a way that makes Leon swear, suck a breath and shove Dean's wrist down as far as it will go.

"Yes," Dean grunts against his cheek. "Leave the gloves on."

"Kinky fucker."

They end up in the grass, one of Leon's knees pinning Dean's shirt to the ground. One of Dean's hands so tight on his ass it's probably in danger of going numb. Dean bites the long stretch of his throat, free hand pushing up the skin-tight t-shirt that he's clearly been itching to rip open all damn day. He drops both hands, tugs open the button and zipper on Leon's jeans and pulls. Then stops dead.

"Your boxer shorts -"

Leon stops trying to get under Dean's shirt and sighs.

Dean can't stop the snort that works its way free.

"Do they have...little zombies on them?"

Leon sighs.

"They were a gift, from a friend."

Dean laughs.

"Shut up."

"You have zombies on your underwear, dude. That's fucking hilarious."

He laughs again, pushing Leon's t-shirt up higher so he can see better.

"If you don't stop laughing, the underwear's staying on," Leon says sharply.

Dean laughs again, then swallows, bites his lower lip and then slides his fingers in the waistband, tugging them carefully down.

"I'll be good."

Leon stretches over him in the dirt, hair trailing both their faces.

"You don't have to go that far."


End file.
